Page 13 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

“Amazing. I’d expect to find something like this in New York.” I glance toward the kitchen, but Adam has his back to me.

“That’s because New York let the best chef they’ve ever had get away.” Britta smiles with a pride that makes me second guess my first impression of Adam being a jerk. It says a lot about a guy when his sister adores him.

“Adam was a chef in New York? Where?” I take another bite and quickly wipe away the sauce that drips down my chin.

Bear shakes his head. “He went to school there—Culinary Institute of America. He had an offer from the restaurant he interned at, but he wanted to come back to Paradise.”

“Henever really wanted to leave in the first place,” Britta adds with a hint of anger.

“Why’d he go, then?” I’m shoving fries into my mouth before Sebastian tries to take anymore. They’re too good to share.

Bear gives Britta a look that can only be interpreted as a warning. She seals her lips shut, but Sebastian doesn’t get the message.

“Why does any man do what he does? For a woman.” Sebastian swipes another fry before I can move my plate, then smiles with the fry between his teeth.

Adam calls from the kitchen, “Those fries are for Eve. Stay out of them.” which only makes Sebastian smile wider.

“It’s Evie!” I call back. Even though I prefer Evelyn.

I get the sense Adam is calling me Eve just to annoy me. So I’ll move the goalpost and settle for Evie. Evie in Paradise is definitely better than Eve. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s smile through anything. He will not get under my skin, no matter how hard he tries.

Kill ‘em with kindness. You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.A smile is worth a thousand words.I will channel every cliche my grandmother drilled into me in order to get this guy to smile.

“This meal is amazing,” I call back.

Adam responds with a grunt that would convince anyone who’d heard it that Neanderthals are for sure part of our genetic ancestry. But when I’m almost finished with the burger, he comes out of the kitchen and walks straight to my table.

“You like it?”

I nod. “How did you know I’d want mushrooms?” I take another bite.

“I was betting that you didn’t,” he growls.

I stop chewing and stare at him. Annoyance bubbles at the top of my stomach. But I swallow, forcing it back down along with the food, which suddenly tastes less good. Not bad. Just no longer heavenly.

“Most people don’t like mushrooms, do they?” I say in my most conversational tone, like he hadn’t basically told me to get lost. “I guess that was a safe bet.” I pop the last bite in my mouth and talk around it. “You should think again before placing any actual bets on what you think I like or don’t like. I might surprise you.” I swallow and smile wide.

Adam flinches, like he’s involuntarily tempted to let down the cranky veneer.

I glance over my shoulder at the rest of the Thomsen crew, who look delighted at what’s just happened between us.

“Can any of you tell me where I can find…” I pull up the text Georgia sent me with the address of where I’ll be staying. “This address?” I show my phone to Sebastian, betting he’s the one who will most annoy Adam if he has to help me find the condo Georgia said I can stay in. “I tried GPS earlier but ended up on the other side of the lake, which was lovely, but, well, not where I needed to be.”

Sebastian laughs. “Actually, that’s the guy who can show you.” He nods toward Adam. “He’s your neighbor.”

I have trouble keeping my smile in place when I turn back to Adam. “So you’re my landlord? I thought it was Zach.” I swear Georgia told me it's Zach who owns the place and is letting me live there for free.

“It is Zach.” His eyes narrow, and he works his jaw back and forth. “It’s the old Victorian house across the street. You’re upstairs. Key is probably under the mat.” His tone isn’t polite, and there’s no subtext of an offer to help. “I rent the downstairs.”

“How lucky are you to live so close to where you work?” My voice, unlike Adam’s, is polite. Sweet. Like too much cotton candy. But my fingers are curled into my palm; my nails dig into my skin.

“You can park here if you want,” Bear says in his low, gentle voice. “There’s only one driveway at the house, and it’s narrow. Might be hard to navigate in the dark.” His cheeks grow a lovely shade of pink when I meet his eye. He may be big, but he’s timid. “I can help you carry your stuff over.”

Sebastian jumps up from his seat. “I can too.”

“She doesn’t need both of you,” Adam declares in a voice that doesn’t leave room for disagreement. “Bear already warmed up. You stay here and get your guitar tuned,” he orders Sebastian.

Sebastian’s jaw juts to the side as he stares up at Adam. He’s not as tall as Adam, (apparently the men here only come in big, bigger, and Bear-size biggest), but he’s fierce. Bear puts distance between himself and Sebastian, even though he’s not the one being glared at. But Adam doesn’t back down. I get the sense that’s his MO. Never back down.

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